At some point, hopefully in the distant future, you have died. Your surviving family has gathered in a futuristic setting to hear your attorney read out your will. The mood is appropriately somber as your attorney begins to speak.
"We are gathered here today to honor the wishes of the dearly departed. Before his death, the deceased asked me to carefully apportion his worldly possessions. Please do not remark or speak out during the reading of the will. I will now read it aloud, as it is written."
Well, FFS, I finally died, for real. I hope it didn't hurt.
To my beloved wife, Meredith, I leave all 305 neorubles in my bank account and the 70,000 neorubles I have in credit card debt. Times were tight and, you know, the economy....anyway, I am giving you all of my Virtual Mafia mobsters, including their upgrades and armor, and my entire collection of episodes of the TV sitcom Coach I downloaded in 2014. I think you said you like that one.
To my youngest son, Twig, I leave 658,000 Dragon Dollars to be used to buy potions, dragons, and scrolls in Dragon World: Summoner's Gate. You always seemed to like dragons whenver I checked your cam.
To my daughter, Harley Quinn, I leave all of my lingerie and swimsuit outfits for Meta Fighter. You can trade them to your character, but I ask that you use them wisely and continue to level up Splashy Sally, my Mermaid Krav Maga Stripper, and leave the decorations in her bedroom screen.
To my eldest son, Cheth, I leave my digital library of music from the 20th century you will never listen to. Don't lie to me. I know you won't listen to it, I just want you to see it in your collection so you remember me that way. Remember how I used to play Wu-Tang for you? I also want you to take over full control of the family Candy Empire account, including the dummy accounts I used to spam sweet tickets, my over 7 million gumdrops, the three succubus wives I unlocked for demon gingerbread, and the 20,000 in credit card debt from playing Candy Empire.
To my son, Barkley, I want you to know I don't blame you for being too fat to play basketball. It's okay. I was too fat to play basketball too. You are hereby given full and complete access to all of my pornography stored in X-cloud. Please delete the folder labeled "TOES" without looking at the contents. The rest of the stuff is yours.
To my brother, Hunter, who probably didn't even bother to show up: I leave my SeinfeldWars account, including all of my rares, the Wooden Indian, Mecha Newman, and the Marine Biology Tokens I won in the Summer of George event. We used to do boss fights on this together before you got sucked into Fantasy Football and spent all that money on the Dragon QB collection rares.
Finally, to my nephew, Walt Venom, I leave my Ultraviolet digital movie collection. I think I only remembered to enter the code for Paranormal Activity 3 and maybe Horrible Bosses. You can check. Ultraviolet went out of business a long time ago, but the lawsuit requires their bankruptcy management people to download your movies onto digital wafer. Just fill out the form online. It will take you twenty minutes, tops, and then you can be watching Paranormal Activity 3 again instead of constantly playing Meta Fighter for lingerie tokens like everyone else.
I guess, to everyone else, sorry I don't have more stuff. I was trying to simplify my life there at the end. Guess I shouldn't have spent more money than I had buying things that don't physically exist. If you would like to remember me, head over to Splashy Sally's bedroom on Meta Fighter and leave candles or skimpy outfits for her to wear. Also, do something nice for my wife.
"It ends there, but includes several download codes for free hats for characters on Fortress Squad 5. There are more than enough for each of you to take one. If you would like to raise your hands I will begin handing them out."
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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